Thunder of the Gods (15 page)

‘Don’t think I don’t know the game you’re playing, Tribune.’

The silence stretched out until Umbrius decided to ask the inevitable question.

‘Game, Legatus? A Roman gentleman is dead, murdered in cold blood by your man. Why would I be playing
games
under such a circumstance?’

‘Please, give me credit for a little intelligence. I’d imagine you’re delighted to have Flamininus off your back, given that he was little better than a mad dog. But you know that the governor has taken a violent dislike to me, mainly because I was the messenger of his removal from the post from which he’s made so much money. You know that if you make a formal complaint to Domitius Dexter then he’ll be delighted to overrule me, and declare a formal investigation into Flamininus’s death. Doubtless he’ll call in one of his cronies from another legion, and between them they’ll manage to find Tribune Corvus guilty of murder. So let me make this very clear to you, Tribune, you can go running to higher authority if it pleases you, but if you do you’ll be inviting him to victimise a man who is guilty of nothing more than defending himself against a lunatic.’

Umbrius shrugged.

‘I can only ask for the justice I feel—’

Scaurus rode over him in a tone that brooked no argument.

‘But if you do seek to take advantage of my strained relationship with the governor then I warn you, beware of the consequences.’

Umbrius gaped at him.

‘Are you
threatening
me, Legatus?’

Scaurus shook his head with a tight smile.

‘I would never do any such thing, Tribune, not given our respective social statuses. But I warn you, Tribune Corvus has been to war with my Tungrians, and they feel a fierce affinity with him. If you challenge him then you challenge them. And my Tungrians, Tribune, are not the sort of men to take a challenge lying down.’

‘You can’t do this.’

Scaurus looked up at Marcus, turning his attention from the paper on his desk to the incredulous tribune.

‘I most certainly can. And I will. And you, Tribune, will obey my lawfully issued orders.’

‘The governor will hold you responsible! He’ll—’

‘Not immediately he won’t. The first thing he’ll do is send men to bring you back. Which will take time.’

‘But that—’

‘Will be days from now. Whereas if I don’t send you away immediately you’ll be arrested within hours and dead soon after. So stop arguing and start listening.’

He folded the paper, securing it with thin ribbon and then dripping a thick blob of candle wax onto the spot where the fabric strips crossed, pressing a waiting seal into the hot globule.

‘There.’

He passed it to Marcus.

‘You have your orders. Execute them, Tribune, and leave the worrying about the consequences to me.’

The younger man saluted and turned on his heel, leaving the headquarters to find Martos waiting for him.

‘Who told you?’

The Briton’s one eye was bright with the joy of the moment.

‘Your first spear. He thinks you might appreciate some company. I have horses saddled and ready, your cloak, provisions for a week. I even found your socks and packed them. Lugos will stay and look after the rest of your gear.’

Marcus smiled, despite the seriousness of what they were about to do.

‘I doubt there’s a horse in the stables that could bear his weight.’

Martos grinned back at him.

‘I doubt such a beast exists in the whole of this city. So, Tribune, where is it that we’re headed?’

Governor Dexter swept into the fortress in his full pomp the next morning, his ceremonial escort of six lictors preceding him into Scaurus’s office, their leader announcing Dexter’s presence while he lurked in the corridor.

‘Gaius Domitius Dexter, Proconsul Legatus of his imperial majesty’s province of Syria Palestina, commander of the imperial legions!’

The governor stalked into the office, looking about him with an air of dissatisfaction before fixing his attention on Scaurus, who now stood to attention awaiting his superior’s command.

‘Legatus.’

Scaurus saluted.

‘Governor. If I’d known we were to be honoured by your presence I would have arranged for some refreshment.’

Dexter shook his head, waving the lictors from the room now that their intimidatory purpose was done with.

‘No need, Rutilius Scaurus. As you may have guessed from my official escort, this is no social visit. I am here to transact official state business in my role as commander in chief of the Syrian legions.’

Scaurus bowed, gesturing to one of the chairs set out before his desk, but the governor shook his head with a thunderous expression.

‘I’ll stand. I have received word from within your legion that a crime has been committed against a senior military tribune, a man of the senatorial class. A crime of murder.’

He stared intently at his junior, but Scaurus wasn’t prepared to be intimidated.

‘I’m aware of the source of your information, Governor. Tribune Umbrius made it perfectly clear that he intended to report Tribune Flamininus’s death.’

‘I should think so!’

The governor’s brow lowered over his eyes, an apparent sign of his fury over the matter.

‘Young Flamininus was the son of a close friend, and was serving here at the express request of his father, in the hope that he would return a better man. Instead of which he lies rotting in the earth …’

He paused, shaking his head at Scaurus.

‘How am I to explain this to his father? Tell me that!’

The legatus waited a moment to be sure that the outburst was over before replying.

‘I suggest you tell Flamininus senior that his son was a bully, with the twin curses of delusions as to his own competence with weapons and a temper that should have been dealt with in the nursery.’

‘What?!’

‘Further, Governor, I suggest that you tell him his son was foolish enough to attempt serious harm to a fellow officer who also happened to be a veteran of several bloody campaigns, and who was recently appointed to his tribunate by the emperor himself.’

Dexter shook his head, refusing to be put off his indignant stride.

‘Your man Corvus killed him!’

‘Indeed so, in a freak accident of the type which will happen when one man attempts to physically damage another who is by far his master with the weapons to hand. Flamininus had already attempted one physical attack upon his colleague, with nothing better to show for it than a badly bruised face. He tried the same trick with a practice sword, forcing Corvus to put him down, made a mess of his defence and took Corvus’s blow in the throat. I have several witnesses to the event, officers who—’

‘Who will retract, when they realise the seriousness of the charges facing your man.’

‘Charges, Governor?’

‘Charges, Legatus. Murder, for the most part. I will not tolerate such a thing. Have him delivered to my presence for judgement. Today.’

Scaurus stared at him for a moment before speaking again.

‘Unfortunately, Governor, I sent him away last night.’

Dexter stared back, his eyes narrowing.

‘You …
sent him away
?’

‘Indeed. I have many and varied needs if I am to take my legion, my mistake, my
half
-legion, into Parthia, some of which I cannot satisfy with purely local resources. Tribune Corvus has travelled south to Hama, in order to procure some of that province’s excellent archers to serve alongside my legionaries.’

‘Has he indeed? In that case, Legatus, I shall detail a man of impeccable character to fetch him back!’

He turned on his heel, calling over his shoulder as he exited the room in high dudgeon.

‘I’ll have your man Corvus in front of me before the week’s out! This transparent attempt to delay imperial justice won’t save him from the fate that’s waiting for him!’

‘Gentlemen, my apologies for not receiving your debrief from the night of the legion’s festivities in the city a little earlier. I’ve been somewhat preoccupied. I’ve now had time to read Centurion Qadir’s written report, which makes for interesting reading.’

Scaurus looked up from the scroll, raising his eyebrows at the two soldiers who were standing to attention before him.

‘You’re
quite
sure about this?’

Sanga nodded confidently, while Saratos stared at the wall behind the legatus and let his comrade do the talking.

‘There’s no doubt about it, Legatus.’

Leaning back in his chair, the legatus looked at the two men thoughtfully.

‘And you’ve shared this information with whom exactly?’

Sanga shook his head.

‘No one outside this room, sir. I ain’t that stupid, and Saratos here tends not to say much at the best of times.’

‘Good. In which case you’re both dismissed to get on with that other matter we discussed. I don’t know how you’re going to find him, but doing so is of the greatest importance. I have a description of the man …’

He handed Sanga a tablet, then looked down at the papers on his desk, and Julius tipped his head to the door.

‘Dismissed. Back to work with the pair of you.’

Once the two soldiers had marched from the room, Scaurus’s clerk entered.

‘Sir, there’s a prefect to see you from the Phrygian cavalry wing. Says he’s on the governor’s business.’

Scaurus pulled a face.

‘I’m sure he is. On your way, First Spear, I don’t want you involved in this.’

The prefect walked into Scaurus’s office and saluted briskly, his masked helmet dangling from its chinstrap as the two men looked at each other for a moment before the visitor spoke, apologetically waving a hand at the thick film of dust on his otherwise spotless armour.

‘Greetings Legatus. I was planning to come across and pay my respects to you this afternoon in any case, although as you can see from the state of my bronze, I was still on the training field when the order from Governor Dexter to take a certain matter in hand arrived.’

His accent was pure Roman aristocrat, but the tone in which the statement was delivered was suitably respectful of the two men’s ranks, and Scaurus waved the cavalry officer to a seat with an encouraging smile.

‘And I’ve been intending to send you an invitation to dinner with my officers, Prefect. It’s a pity we couldn’t have had this meeting under happier circumstances.’

The younger man grimaced.

‘I can concur with that sentiment, sir. You’ll have to forgive me for the formality of this meeting, but I’m left with little choice.’

‘I understand, Prefect. Shall we get down to business?’

‘Thank you, sir.’ The officer straightened in his chair. ‘You will be aware, Legatus, that I am ordered to ride for Hama, and to apprehend and return to Antioch a narrow stripe tribune by the name of …’

He made a show of consulting his tablet.

‘Marcus Tribulus Corvus. Apparently this man Corvus is guilty of the murder of your broad stripe Tribune Lucius Quinctius Flamininus?’

Scaurus shook his head.

‘The governor and my senior tribune both call it murder. I’m more inclined to the term “self-defence”.’

He smiled thinly.

‘But then I would be, wouldn’t I?’

The prefect nodded, his face set hard.

‘Nevertheless, Legatus, as a loyal officer of Rome you are, I presume, willing to assist me in the pursuance of my orders?’

‘Of course.’

‘Thank you, sir. So, is this man Corvus accompanied?’

Scaurus smiled.

‘Yes. He has with him a one-eyed Briton of the Votadini tribe who should be considered extremely dangerous.’

The cavalryman nodded.

‘I see. And they’ve ridden for Hama?’

‘He left via the Oriental gate late yesterday afternoon.’

‘So there’s no point my despatching riders to any other of the province’s forts?’

Scaurus shook his head.

‘I know my duty, Tribune. And I am only a loyal servant of the emperor. Tribune Corvus is to be found in Hama, I can assure you of that.’

When Julius reported to the headquarters building the next morning he found Scaurus waiting for him on the steps.

‘Make your report as we walk, First Spear, your officers are perfectly capable of running morning training without you breathing down their necks this once. I think it’s time we found out how well your man Avidus is doing with those manufacturing jobs I asked him to sort out.’

They walked briskly through the camp to the armourer’s workshops, finding the pioneer centurion waiting for them at the door.

‘Legatus, First Spear, come inside. I’ve got something to show you both.’

They followed him into the armoury, but where the first spear had expected to find trained soldiers working to repair the usual broken armour hinges and lost strap rivets, he was surprised to find the workshop in relative silence. Looking around he took in the neatly stacked bales of linen in one corner, the pile of ox hides in another, and the rack of shields awaiting the skilled tradesmen’s attention. Raising an eyebrow, he looked at Scaurus with a questioning expression.

‘You really think we can make these shields arrowproof with linen and leather, Legatus?’

His superior nodded equably.

‘It’ll work. Centurion?’

Avidus gestured to the shield before him, its red painted wooden surface as yet unadorned.

‘We glue a layer of linen to the wood, give it time to dry and then add another layer, and so on until we’ve laid on a dozen or so. Then we top it off with a layer of ox hide to protect the linen against any rain, and paint the hide with melted beeswax as waterproofing before nailing the rim back into place.’ He grinned at Julius. ‘Given that your boys will be looking for a way to make the bloody things lighter again, the leather also acts as a form of protection against tampering. Anyway …’

He gestured to a soldier who carried forward a modified shield, its painted wood now completely concealed by the linen and leather that had been fixed to the curved surface. Julius took it from him, hefting its weight with a grunt.

‘It’s heavy.’

Avidus nodded.

‘The additional protection weighs about six pounds. But come and see this before you tell me it’s not worth the extra load on our men.’